Based on events during Episode 2 of GoT Season 8

(Also includes flashback from Episode 2 of GoT Season 4)

The time passed slowly. A comfortable silence had fallen amongst the group assembled around the fire as they continued to drink and stare into the flickering flames, waiting in dread for the horn blasts to signal that the Army of the Dead were upon them. Brienne and Jaime both secretly yearned to talk to the other, but what to say? Particularly with the others there? Nevertheless, they were at least comforted by each other's presence as they sat side by side, exchanging the occasional glance as they sipped the rest of their wine. It felt nice for them all to be together, united like this around the fire. One last hurrah before the battle.

'It's strange, isn't it?' Tyrion said thoughtfully after a while as he looked around at them all. 'Almost everyone here's fought the Starks at one time or another. And here we are in their castle…ready to defend it. Together.'

There was a small pause as everyone considered his words, slightly dazed.

And then Brienne spoke up. 'At least we'll die with honour,' she said, her tone resigned yet proud.

Jaime looked at her, mesmerised. She inspired him so much. Even in the face of death, she was unperturbed. Instead, she was determined and loyal and extraordinary. It even made Jaime believe her – yes, he would die tonight, but as an honourable man. That was all he had ever wanted, all he had ever strived to be yet never thought he could become. Until Brienne had come into his life.

'I think we might live,' Tyrion said with a slight chuckle, and with a snort Ser Davos began to laugh. 'I-I do! How many battles have we survived between us? Ser Davos Seaworth – survivor of both the Blackwater and the Battle of the Bastards.'

'All without a shred of combat ability,' Davos said in surprise, and Tormund grunted in agreement.

'Ser Jaime Lannister,' Tyrion then rang out, and Jaime raised his eyebrows wearily and tilted his head at him, 'fabled hero of the Siege of Pyke.'

'Fabled loser of the Battle of Whispering Wood,' Jaime interjected, getting up to his feet and crossing the room to fetch some more wine.

'Hear, hear!'

Brienne watched him go thoughtfully, admiring how handsome he looked in that rustic armour. She thought back to the man he had been back when he had been taken prisoner at the Whispering Wood. He may be somewhat embarrassed now at how he had lost that battle, but he couldn't deny that if he hadn't lost, he would never have changed to become the better person that he was today.

Tyrion tilted his head at Brienne. 'Ser Brienne of Tarth. Defeated the Hound in – pardon me, Lady Brienne,' he corrected himself, pretending his mistake was genuine and not deliberate.

Tormund looked confused. 'She's not a ser? You're not a knight?' he asked her incredulously.

Brienne closed her eyes. 'Women can't be knights,' she explained, trying not to sound too bitter.

'Why not?'

'Tradition,' she replied simply.

'Fuck tradition.'

Jaime looked around at Tormund as he poured more wine into his goblet, and he smiled slightly. He didn't like the man, but he certainly had the right mindset. It was ridiculous that Brienne was prevented from becoming a knight just because of her gender. It was wrong. He glanced over at Brienne; her unbothered expression didn't fool him one bit.

'I don't even want to be a knight,' Brienne said, her tone dismissive, but when she glanced over at Pod and saw him frowning at her, her expression softened slightly as she realised what she had said. She had never been a good liar.

'I'm no king. But if I were,' Tormund said, leaning towards Brienne, 'I'd knight you ten times over.'

Brienne stared at Tormund, slightly alarmed by the intensity of his leering gaze, when suddenly Jaime spoke up from the corner of the hall.

'You don't need a king,' Jaime realised, his tone thoughtful as he turned around to face Brienne and Tormund with a slight frown on his face. 'Any knight can make another knight.'

Brienne tilted her head at him, confused. What was he trying to say?

Jaime had already made his decision before he'd set his goblet back down on the table. It might have been Tormund's idea, but Jaime wanted to be the one to make Brienne's dream a reality. He turned back to face them.

'I'll prove it,' he said firmly, fixing his eyes on Tormund's sceptical glare, and he walked over to the centre of the hall where the space was clear of all tables and chairs.

Jaime exhaled inaudibly, his heartrate increasing slightly. He'd always known how no one had ever appreciated Brienne's bravery or accepted her as the great warrior she was. But now he had the chance to give her what she really deserved, what she had always wanted beyond anything else. And it terrified him.

He drew out his sword. 'Kneel, Lady Brienne,' he said commandingly, pointing his sword at the stone floor before him, and he looked over at her.

Brienne stared at him unsurely and then turned away, scoffing, before any of the others had an opportunity to laugh as well. She had been conditioned to only expect mockery from men all her life, so she was used to having to be on guard and simply wait for the joke to be played out. She was trying to put on a brave face, but deep inside she was distressed about the possibility that Jaime could be in on whatever jest this might be. She'd thought he was better than that, that his bullying days were behind him.

But then something in Jaime's expression changed as he realised she doubted him. 'Do you want to be a knight or not?' he asked.

Surprised, Brienne slowly turned back to him, her expression of fake amusement faltering. And then she realised from the look on Jaime's face that this was not a joke. He was being serious.

Jaime nodded his head at her, his eyebrows raised. 'Kneel,' he said, his voice firm and strong, and almost sensual.

There was a silence as all the men assembled looked back and forth between Jaime and Brienne with baited breath.

Confused and afraid, Brienne glanced over at Pod, who gave her a reassuring nod and smile. 'It's all right, my lady', he told her wordlessly in his gaze, 'you can trust him'.

Brienne turned back to face Jaime, conflicted. Jaime felt a great rush of sympathy for her. He understood Brienne more than most; the feeling of being an outsider, people having preconceived opinions about her, being mocked. He understood the pain that she just wanted to be recognised and accepted for the person she had always been. But perhaps now he would be able to help that pain subside a little. He had never been able to tell her how important she was to him – this was his chance.

Jaime gave her another nod, his expression kind and encouraging.

Stunned, Brienne slowly got up from her chair and put down her drink. She stood there for a moment and simply gazed over at Jaime, trying to search the expression in his eyes. She still looked so unsure, so wary. Humiliation frightened Brienne more than any battle or injury or threat of death ever could. The last time she had been surrounded by a group of men like this, she had been the victim of a cruel joke. She couldn't help being hesitant to oblige Jaime's request. But now, though she could hardly dare believe it, he was wanting to honour and praise her. She could see it in his eyes, sparkling with admiration, and in his strong voice, his firm expression – he was wanting to show her the utmost respect in front of all these fancy men. He was there for her and only her. And he was offering her something she never thought she was ever going to have, something no one had ever done before.

Swallowing slightly, Brienne slowly and hesitantly began to move towards him, her footsteps and clunky armour echoing across the hall. She trusted Jaime enough to know that he would never make her a fool out of her in front of everyone assembled here. And Jaime knew how monumental that was for her to trust him in that regard.

He was surprised, suddenly feeling rather vulnerable himself; she could have easily rejected him. After all, who would want to be knighted by the Kingslayer? The rest of Westeros perhaps might not see the validity in it at all. But Brienne knew differently. She saw him only as Ser Jaime, a man of honour. And that was enough for them both. They trusted each other completely. But it still couldn't prevent the trepidation and vulnerability with which Brienne approached him.

Tyrion got up eagerly from his seat and moved slightly to get a better view; he wasn't missing one bit of this momentous occasion. He watched Brienne as she anxiously came to a halt opposite Jaime and the two of them simply stood there for a moment, gazing at each other.

Jaime pointed at the floor again with his sword, gesturing to her. A lump rising in her throat, Brienne knelt down on one knee before him. She kept her eyes on him, a small part of her still worried that he would do something daft with the sword to amuse the men watching, even though she knew really that he never would. Her heart was racing ahead like never before.

She frowned ever so slightly as she glanced down at his left hand adjusting his hold on the sword's hilt, and she realised then from the anxious fidgeting of his fingers that Jaime Lannister was just as nervous as she felt, perhaps even more so. After all, Jaime knew how it felt and what it meant to be knighted. He knew this was Brienne's dream, and he wanted this moment to be perfect for her. Of course he was nervous. How could he not be?

Jaime swallowed slightly as he lifted his sword up, and hesitated before placing it gently on Brienne's shoulder. When he said the words, he spoke slowly and poetically, as if they were wedding vows, in a voice that was both soft and powerful.

'In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave,' Jaime said gently, and he moved the sword to her other shoulder. 'In the name of the Father, I charge you to be just. In the name of the Mother, I charge you to defend the innocent.'

He almost got choked up at the last three words, and his face filled with emotion as he gazed lovingly down at Brienne. He couldn't help but recall how he had broken his oath by killing the Mad King to fulfil this very vow: to save all those innocent lives of the King's Landing population. It felt like he was reclaiming something for himself that once was lost, because these were not just words, they were the most important vows of both his and Brienne's lives. He hoped she knew that he was trying to convey just how deserving she was, and how honoured he was to be able to do this for her.

Brienne was the embodiment of everything he had always wanted to be when he had been younger – if it hadn't been for his father and sister and the politics of court influencing his twisted youth, he might have even had a chance at achieving becoming an honourable knight, like the astonishing woman knelt before him. It was almost as if he was using this ceremony to take himself back to his own knighthood, to purify himself from his dark past. Brienne had shaped him into something so much more than the evil, arrogant, selfish Kingslayer he had once been, and her example and influence had now led him to do his most honourable act yet and make her wildest dream a reality. And it was the most heart-warming, triumphant feeling in the world. He might as well have been cloaking her; it didn't feel any different. If anything, these vows felt more meaningful than the words of a marriage ceremony.

There was a pause as Jaime withdrew his sword from her shoulder and let the words of the vows resonate across the hall. Brienne's chin wobbled as she slowly gazed up at him, hardly daring to believe the words he had just said. This was a dream she had never thought would happen. She could hardly believe it was real. His eyes were glistening in the firelight as he gazed back at her devotedly. It felt like they were the only two people in the room.

'Arise, Brienne of Tarth,' Jaime said, the words ringing out triumphantly across the hall, 'a knight of the Seven Kingdoms.'

He said it as if it were a declaration of love. In some ways, it was.

He was so fiercely proud of her. It was the proudest moment of his life. He could see the water brewing in her eyes as Brienne rose to her feet and began to smile. When she looked at him like that, it felt as if time stopped moving. She was completely stunned, and deliriously grateful and overjoyed that someone could know her well enough to give her everything she had always wanted, the greatest gift she could ever have asked her. He had given her the whole world. Not only had she been knighted, she had been knighted by someone she cared deeply for. And in that moment Brienne knew that she had no barriers left; she could no longer hide her emotions from him anymore. Jaime had stripped that armour from her. Her heart and soul was his now, completely.

Jaime's pupils dilated as he took in the sight of her watery eyes and the way her trembling lips smiled, and for a second Brienne was the only person in the universe. She was the most wonderful person he had ever laid eyes on. He couldn't quite believe she was real, and that it had taken him this long to realise how lucky he was just to know Brienne of Tarth. He was well and truly shaken. As he continued to gaze breathlessly back into her eyes, a look of revelation filled his awed, transfixed face as he suddenly understood what love truly meant. He didn't know what to do or how to go about processing these overwhelming feelings, but he knew now for sure – he had fallen irrevocably in love with this incredible woman stood smiling with tear-filled eyes before him.

The two of them were so lost in each others' eyes that they'd forgotten there were even other people present in the room. They were too overcome with respect and adoration for one another. Brienne knew just from his expression alone that Jaime was just as honoured to give her the title of 'knight' as she was to receive it. After all this time and everything she had been through, she had gained acknowledgement from a man who saw her for who she truly was. A man who was now openly on the same side as her at last. They were finally in the same place at the same time. They were united as one.

It took a few seconds of hesitant clapping from the others by the fireplace to snap Jaime out of his trance; he was so absorbed by the sight of Ser Brienne smiling tearfully at him that he nearly jumped as he registered the sound. Tearing his eyes away from her, Jaime looked around in shock as he realised that the four men were still there, watching them enthusiastically.

'Ser Brienne of Tarth!' Tyrion cried out, raising his goblet, and his voice was overcome with emotion. 'Knight of the Seven Kingdoms!'

While Jaime put away his sword, Brienne looked at her audience, to make sure that they weren't joking. Pod, Davos, Tormund and Tyrion were all beaming at her and applauding. They looked genuinely delighted for her. The tears threatening to spill from her eyes now, Brienne turned back to Jaime.

She was still too stunned by what had happened to speak, but the look in her eyes spoke volumes.

This is all I've ever wanted.

Her dream had come true. And Jaime Lannister had made it so. Who would have thought such a thing, all those years ago when they had first met as hostile enemies?

Jaime suddenly found his eyes wet with tears as well as he smiled back at her and gave her a nod while the others continued to cheer. He felt so warm and full inside. He had needed this just as much as Brienne; to remind himself of why he became a knight. It had given him a deep sense of privilege and joy to have finally knighted someone he had enormous admiration for, and more importantly someone who deserved the title of 'knight' more than anyone in this world. It was the most honourable thing he had ever done. It was an act of love, as well; Jaime could tell from the look on Tyrion's face as he walked back to join them by the fireplace that his brother knew this. But Jaime didn't care. Let Tyrion know. He would be perfectly happy to shout it from the rooftops, if he only had the courage. Jaime paused before sitting back in his chair and turned to look back at Brienne, who was still stood gazing at her cheering audience of admirers in awe and delight.

The pure emotional joy on Brienne's face could have warmed even the coldest of hearts. She was beaming. Her smile was the most glorious thing he had ever seen. It filled the room with light and joy. It was a beautiful moment in the middle of a nightmare, a moment in which Brienne learned that acceptance was truly a wonderful thing. She had told herself time and time again that she didn't need recognition or acceptance for the way she had chosen to live her life…but now she had it. Jaime had given her the validation that she had secretly wanted her whole life. And it was extraordinary.

Brienne knew that, whatever happened in the next few hours, even if she did indeed die during the upcoming battle, she would die happy, still relishing the blissful memory of that feeling she had experienced while she had knelt by the firelight, having her dream fulfilled by the man she now truly knew she loved.

Up until now, she hadn't fully realised – or perhaps accepted – that she was truly in love with Jaime, because that kind of experience had never really been a part of her life, aside from perhaps her unrequited affection for Renly. She had been so used to years of Jaime's taunts and insults that she had never once thought that he would genuinely believe in her…but now he was being sincere and affectionate towards her in front of all these people, something she had never encountered in this unkind world she had grown up in, and it shook her deeply. She knew she had been harbouring these feelings for a long time; she had never let herself come to terms with her burgeoning love for him because she hadn't wanted to get hurt when there was no chance such a man would feel the same way. But it felt like such a relief to finally acknowledge it now, to smile and gaze at him with tears in her eyes and not be embarrassed to do so, because life was short and they were both determined to wear their hearts on their sleeves for what little remained of their lives in this world.

Brienne could distinctly remember the horror she had felt when she'd first realised the romantic affection she was beginning to hold for Jaime…affection she determinedly hadn't allowed to even bubble to the surface of her consciousness. It had been many years ago when she had discovered that her feelings towards the Kingslayer had suddenly changed from hostility to attraction. But still, the memory was vivid.

After all, it would be very hard for anyone to forget the day of Joffrey Baratheon's wedding.

It was unbearably hot outside; Jaime could hardly cope in his heavy golden armour. The wedding banquet was well underway and yet all he could do was watch from the sidelines as his family dined in splendour up at the top table, while he remained on duty. 'A glorified bodyguard', his father had once called him. That was all he was good for. Although now he no longer had his sword hand, Jaime somehow doubted he was even good enough for that.

He walked around the perimeter of the gardens, keeping a close eye on the festivities as everyone ate and drank and entertained, while his left hand remained tightly fixed on the sword attached to his armour, prepared for any sign of trouble. To his surprise, he saw Brienne emerging down one of the paths to join everyone. For the first time since the days' celebrations had begun for Joffrey's nuptials, Jaime felt his spirits inexplicably lift slightly at the sight of her. Perhaps it was because she looked just as unhappy to be here as he was.

He looked her up and down, rather taken aback; she was wearing a dress as blue as the glorious sea not far from them in honour of the special occasion. It was high-necked and not at all feminine in its shape or the way the skirt moved, but unlike most of the clothing she wore, it complemented her figure, helped in some ways by the leather brown belt wrapped around her waist. Dressed like that, she looked tall in an almost statuesque, attractive way, rather than an ugly one.

Brienne noticed him looking, and frowned as she came to a halt beside him. 'Don't start. Just don't,' she said sternly, too embarrassed and irritated to bother exchanging pleasantries.

Jaime looked indignant and his lips twitched ever so slightly for a brief half-second. 'I wasn't going to say anything! In fact, you look quite…' – he almost said 'nice' but stopped himself just in time – 'appropriate. Pleasant, even. Considering.'

Brienne was confused. Jaime had never complimented her appearance before. He'd made it no secret that he found her an unsightly woman.

'You really shouldn't be drinking while on duty, you know,' she said, rolling her eyes as she turned with her hands behind her back to look out at the crowds celebrating.

Jaime raised his eyebrows at her and smiled, amused. Once she had recovered from the aftermath of the news of Lady Catelyn's tragic death, Brienne seemed to have settled almost too well into life at King's Landing. Her recent dry humorous remarks were starting to unnerve Jaime slightly; it was only becoming more evident just how much time they were spending in each other's company.

'Actually, I was being serious,' Jaime said, barely suppressing a chuckle, and he looked at her. 'The blue suits you.'

There was a short silence as Brienne stared at him as if he had gone completely mad.

'Thank you…?' she said eventually, her tone uncertain, and she cleared her throat as she eyed his attire as well. 'This is…lovely.'

Jaime squinted his eyes slightly and tilted his head at her, bemused by her choice of wording. He was Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, and as such was wearing the most expensive, luscious suit of armour in the entire Seven Kingdoms. They both knew that 'lovely' was a grave understatement.

The two of them looked at each other for a moment then turned away in synchronisation, slightly flustered. She wished he wouldn't look at her like that, with such intrigue in his eyes; it had been better before when he had glared at her in repulsion. Similarly, Jaime wished her cheeks wouldn't colour the way they sometimes did around him now. He missed her scornful scowls. Besides, they needed to remember to not act too familiar around each other, as it would only make people talk more. It appeared the rumours of Jaime and Brienne being supposed 'lovers' during their time together in the Riverlands had reached the population of King's Landing. They couldn't add further fuel to such mortifying gossip.

'Do you remember that pink thing they dressed you in at Harrenhal?' Jaime asked, if only to fill the silence.

Brienne closed her eyes. 'Don't remind me,' she muttered, and he scoffed.

'You're not interested in any of it, are you? The fancy frocks, being a noble lady,' he said, shaking his head and watching her, fascinated. 'You'd much rather be dressed in armour with myself and the rest of the City Watch.'

'I would,' Brienne replied, and she exhaled deeply. 'But we both know that would never happen. No woman can ever become a knight.'

'You never know what could happen,' Jaime said, shrugging as he turned back to survey the wedding guests. 'The rules might change. I don't see why not. As far as I know, there isn't a woman out there like you.'

Brienne frowned. 'I'm not sure whether to take that as a compliment or another insult,' she said, eyeing him curiously.

'Take it how you like.' His voice was quite short when he spoke, as if he was annoyed with her for calling him out on it.

Brienne took this as her cue to leave. 'I…I should go,' she said awkwardly, taking a few steps away.

'Yes, get yourself a drink,' Jaime muttered irritably.

'I don't drink.'

'What, not ever?'

'No,' Brienne replied, unperturbed by the look of horror on his face.

She didn't like the influence alcohol had on her. She'd had very little experience with it in the past, but she hadn't liked how simply one goblet of wine could dull her senses slightly. A woman like her could never afford to let her guard down.

Jaime snorted. 'No wonder you don't have any friends here.'

Brienne didn't give him the satisfaction of responding; instead she simply flared her nostrils at him, trying not to be too stung by his words, and turned on her heel to try and force herself to mingle with the many guests, nearly all of them hostile strangers to her.

The time seemed to drag on as more courses of food and flagons of wine continued to be brought out and the temperature got steadily hotter and more uncomfortable. Jaime was feeling extremely irritable; he was reeling from a recent heated exchange with that stupid Tyrell boy.

'You'll never marry Cersei.'

'And neither will you.'

He'd had half a mind to storm after him and challenge him to a duel there and then for the sheer audacity of saying such an outrageous thing, but had been distracted by the sight of Brienne walking past him. Strangely, his sudden fit of rage and sadness that had been bursting inside him at Loras Tyrell's comment about never marrying seemed to dissipate. Jaime wished he hadn't driven her away from him earlier; Brienne was the only decent company he'd had all day so far.

He watched with baited breath as Brienne approached the high table to pay her respects to the newly married couple. He noticed the way Cersei's head tilted in intrigue at the sight of this strange-looking woman stood before them, how her eyes lit up in amusement and her lips broke out into that false, dangerous smile that Jaime knew all too well. She was looking at Brienne as if she were a complete joke. Unable to watch, Jaime turned away and began to pace up and down amongst the tables, determined to keep a firm watch on the festivities. He could hear the band playing 'The Bear and the Maiden Fair' not too far from the high table; it hit him with a bizarre feeling of nostalgia as he recalled how Locke and the other Bolton soldiers had serenaded Jaime and Brienne with this song for days on end while they had been tied up to one another. Jaime had found it so infuriating then, but now, for some reason, he found he had grown to like the song.

Jaime turned subtly back to the royal table, deciding that he would wait for Brienne to finish and put herself at a safe distance from the fearful people sat there before going over to talk to her. He was relieved to see that Brienne was bowing her head to Margaery Tyrell in farewell and turning to leave, to put herself at a safe distance. Rather than lingering, Jaime continued to turn and looked at the ground; he didn't want Cersei to notice him looking. He realised he would have to wait a little longer until it was safe to approach Brienne without the risk of those many suspicious eyes from his family members watching.

Exhaling deeply, Brienne strode urgently away from the table and headed down the steps from the podium, trying not to walk too quickly. She was overcome with relief that she had got that over with. The hard part was done now; she had fought her own anger and hatred towards the Lannisters and played her part accordingly, as Jaime had advised her a few days ago. It had been awkward and horrendous and dishonourable and a lie, but still she had done it, for the sake of being able to stay in the city so she could watch over Sansa, as Lady Catelyn would have desired. And now at last Brienne could leave this disastrous affair and retire for the day – after all, social gatherings had never been her thing – and she could return to her bedchamber, she could momentarily free herself of putting on this polite pretence, she could avoid these scheming, treacherous, untrustworthy people –

'Lady Brienne.'

Brienne started and turned. Her heart skipped a beat in fear. Of course it would have to be the one she disliked the most who had approached her. Cersei Lannister.

'Did you just bow?' she had said mockingly merely seconds before, when Brienne had approached Margaery Tyrell and her new husband. Even now she was disregarding Brienne's protests from earlier by addressing her with that stupid title. Cersei smiled as she seemed to read Brienne's mind.

'You're Lord Selwyn Tarth's daughter. That makes you a lady whether you want to be or not,' Cersei said, amused, as she came to a halt in front of her.

Brienne forced a smile and nodded. 'As you say, Your Grace,' she said politely.

It took everything Cersei had in her to keep a welcoming smile fixed on her face. Not only did this beastly woman have an undeniable yet indefinable connection with Jaime, but she'd also managed to successfully defy the gender that Cersei had so valiantly tried to fight against in order to gain the kind of power and respect her father had. Alas, it was not to be. And yet this hideous lumbering creature stood looming over her hadn't let being a woman stand in her way to get what she wanted. It was maddening.

'I owe you my gratitude. You returned my brother safely to King's Landing,' Cersei said, and despite her inexplicable dislike towards Brienne, she couldn't help but mean her words; if it hadn't been for Brienne, she might never have seen Jaime again.

Cersei glanced over at Jaime across the many tables and people. He was already looking over at the pair of them anxiously; she smirked slightly, wondering how long he had been watching them. Brienne turned to follow her gaze, and her eyes met Jaime's. Even from this distance, she could tell he looked wary.

Jaime frowned over at them, his eyes squinting slightly against the ferocious sunlight. He wished he could hear what they were talking about. As far as he was aware, it was the first time in the weeks that had passed since he and Brienne had arrived here that she and Cersei had crossed paths. Jaime found himself overcome with paranoia…and even nausea. Would Brienne somehow slip into conversation that she had nursed Jaime's stump every night, or that she had bathed naked with him, or that he had opened up his heart to her and told her the truth about the day King's Landing had fallen? Would Cersei say something rude and spiteful to Brienne, or threaten her to leave the city?

What was going on?

The small smile on Brienne's face was genuine this time when she turned back around to face Cersei. 'In truth, he rescued me, Your Grace,' she said fondly, innocently lost in memories, and her eyes lowered briefly to the ground as she felt her cheeks begin to warm. 'More than once.'

Cersei stared up at her for a moment, her expression frozen as a strange feeling surged through her – was it fear?

In truth he saved me, Your Grace. More than once.

That was certainly news to her. Cersei would never have believed it if she hadn't known that Brienne of Tarth had absolutely no reason to lie to her. Jealousy was not an unfamiliar emotion to Cersei – after all, women all over Westeros were infatuated by the mere sight of Jaime, how could they not be? – but she had always dealt with it reasonably well in the knowledge that Jaime was in no way interested. But now, with this woman stood here who dared to imply that Jaime had actually cared enough to bother saving her? It filled Cersei with rage.

Nevertheless, Cersei knew she must remain calm, and her voice barely cracked when she spoke. 'Did he?' she asked Brienne, unimpressed, and she forced herself to smile with her teeth…although it quickly disappeared. 'Haven't heard that story before.'

She looked back over at Jaime with a hard expression, the look in her eyes cold and calculating. She was worried now. She could see in his nervous gaze that he felt something for Brienne – gratitude, certainly, but it seemed also respect and affection as well. And he was worried for her, that alone was obvious.

Cersei couldn't understand. Brienne was nothing like Cersei, and she was certainly no beauty. And yet Jaime had apparently saved her numerous times, when before his capture at the Whispering Wood, he would only have ever bothered saving himself or Cersei. So what had changed? What was so different about this woman? Was it because she was brave? Loyal? Honourable? Cersei barely repressed a shudder at the very thought. She didn't know what made this unsightly pitiful excuse of a woman so special, but all she did know was that it meant trouble. Brienne seemed the sort of woman who had the capability of showing Jaime what a devious, twisted person his sister really was. And Cersei couldn't have that.

A flicker of panic momentarily crossed Brienne's face as she realised she might have said too much, that she might have broken an unspoken rule. She was somewhat stunned; was this beautiful woman, Jaime's lifelong true love, somehow jealous of her?! Brienne quickly recovered herself, and forced another warm smile as she tried to backtrack.

'Not such a fascinating story, I'm afraid,' Brienne said, bowing her head, but Cersei wasn't having any of it; she was done with the false courtesies now.

'I'm sure you have many fascinating stories. Sworn to Renly Baratheon, sworn to Catelyn Stark…and now my brother,' Cersei said, and Brienne's face fell as she fearfully watched Cersei struggle to maintain her false smile. 'Must be exciting to flit from one camp to the next…serving whichever lord or lady you fancy.'

Her words stung Brienne deeply. How many other people saw her that way?

'I don't serve your brother, Your Grace,' Brienne corrected her, her voice calm and unconfrontational.

Cersei looked at her, and the false warmth in her eyes disappeared.

'But you love him,' she said, unsmiling.

Speechless, Brienne stared back at her, completely caught off guard. She hadn't expected anyone, least of all Cersei Lannister, to ever even entertain the idea of something as preposterous as that.

Although…was it really so preposterous?

In that moment, as Brienne let Cersei's words resonate in her mind, she was forced to acknowledge that perhaps there was a good reason for Cersei to be so suspicious. It was the first time Brienne had ever really considered such a possibility, and she felt the horror rise in her as she realised what it was she had been beginning to feel ever since Jaime had rescued her from the bear pit.

Could it be true? Could she love him?

Her lips parted and she swallowed slightly, afraid by Cersei's intense, penetrating glare as the two women continued to stare at each other. Brienne simply didn't know what to do. The damage was already done. Cersei had let it be known that she could plainly see what Brienne had been blind to before, and now there was no going back. Even right before Cersei's face, Brienne couldn't try to deny it and she couldn't force herself to lie, for her own self-preservation…and also because she was no good at it. Besides, Cersei had already figured it out; Brienne's silence and the look in her eyes said it all. There was no point in taking the conversation any further.

Cersei's eyes lowered bitterly as the silence continued. The ugly bitch wasn't brave enough to say anything in response, apparently. How fitting.

Eventually, Brienne could stand it no longer. 'Your Grace,' she said quietly, with a slight nod.

She couldn't do the formal exit; she just had to turn away. Anything to avoid that look in Cersei's eyes. Anything to avoid her own embarrassment. Brienne wished she wasn't always this socially awkward and that she didn't frequently run into trouble conversing with these people at King's Landing, but there was no rescuing her from this disaster. She just had to move and put as much distance between herself and Cersei as possible.

Turning firmly on her heel, Brienne looked up to see that Jaime was still watching them urgently, his face creased with concern. Just the sight of him looking at her felt like a slap around the cheek, as if knocking sense into her, chastising her for being such a fool in denying something so obvious, something that had taken someone else merely a minute-long conversation to work out.

Guilt-ridden, Brienne's thoughts went to Renly. She had always accepted that her one-sided love for him would remain until the end of her days, and that would be the end of it. She hadn't expected there would be anyone else…least of all Jaime Lannister. It was such a strange feeling to realise, such a sudden change within her…to look across at Jaime now and see him in a different way. Yes, the sight of him still aggravated her. After all, he was an aggravating man, and always would be. But he had also strangely become one of the most important people in her life. He had become everything to her, in a way. A few months ago, she couldn't wait to be rid of him, and yet now she knew that her life would feel empty and odd if she and Jaime were to part ways. There was no point in denying or hiding the feelings Cersei had helped bring to the surface. Brienne wouldn't be able to conceal it, not to Jaime, and, perhaps most importantly, not even to herself. Though she was determined to try.

She felt her cheeks go red as she looked away from Jaime, severely shaken, and walked away from Cersei quickly with her head bowed.

Jaime saw the flushed, mortified look on Brienne's face, but it was Cersei's expression that unnerved him the most as she watched Brienne stride hurriedly away. Her sneering glare drifted over to Jaime and their eyes met for the briefest of moments. Jaime frowned back at her, burning with curiosity and concern about what had happened – what could have been said between the pair of them to make Brienne blush and scurry off like that, and – even worse – to make Cersei look like she was struggling to keep a fit of rage under control?

Unable to keep her eye contact, Jaime turned away nervously, making a mental note to avoid Cersei for the rest of today. As much as he wanted to deny it, he knew deep down that he didn't really need to ask what had been said between the two women in his life to know what it meant. The cold look in Cersei's eyes from afar was telling enough. She knew now that Brienne was more to him than just his former captor-turned-ally, as he had previously insisted upon their arrival.

He sighed anxiously to himself as he frowned around at the happy, drunken guests, wishing he could just abandon his post and chase off after Brienne to check that she was all right. All these weeks, she had been concerned about Sansa's safety here in King's Landing. She had never once stopped to think about her own.

But now Jaime knew, from just a glance at his sister. Brienne was in danger. And he would stop at nothing to make sure that no harm would come to her.